


the king only moves one space for a reason

by apeirophobia



Series: takotsubo cardiomyopathy [6]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 09:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17077322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apeirophobia/pseuds/apeirophobia
Summary: Harry has never done anything halfway in twenty-one years. Hitting rock bottom doesn't change that.In which Harry goes through the five stages of grief two years late, Ashton is in the hospital, and no one is in denial. Not anymore.[takes place immediately after "faded scars and borrowed time"]





	the king only moves one space for a reason

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone <3 Thank you all so much for reading this series and I hope you enjoy this next part <3

Harry doesn't move, doesn't breathe, his gaze fixed on the fancy raised wallpaper in front of him like he can burn a hole through it. Louis' words hang in the air still, his fingers warm on the back of Harry's hand and Harry closes his eyes. He thinks, maybe if he stays still, maybe he can make this moment last forever. Maybe if he doesn't think, simply refuses to comprehend the meaning of his actions, he can remain free from the consequences (free from the _guilt_ ). The truth of his actions has finally been dragged into the light, and he'll forestall his own reckoning as long as he can. It's the allegory of the cave all over again, and he doesn't want to see the sun.  

There's a thud down the hall as Niall falls off Zayn's bed in a bout of FIFA enthusiasm, and Harry can hear Michael's laugh through the hotel walls. He wonders where Ashton has gone off to--before quickly shutting down that train of thought. He really doesn't want to think about that right now. Not about Ashton. Not about anything. Not about the traitorous vein of memories that is starting to seep into his mind. Not about the multitude of things that are threatening to suddenly make sense. Not about the way Ashton tensed and held his breath in the doorway, lest his skin accidentally brush Harry's when he passed by.

 

Harry has done and seen a lot in his twenty-one years. This wasn’t in his plans. Not sitting on his ex-boyfriend's hotel bed, muscles locked and heart racing, too petrified to move. He’s sold out arenas. He has (well, him and his boys) conquered the world. He didn’t foresee being brought down by something as inconsequential as a frivolous fuck. Not even. According to Louis, he's being brought down by his inability to hear the word 'no' which is...even worse. And honestly, he didn't even have, like, good reasons--he just had lust. He just liked Ashton, and the simplicity he provided--sex without all the feelings Louis required. The advantage of playing with something you created is being able to put it back on the shelf with no consequences. He helped create the life Ashton and the boys currently enjoyed and that was like a power trip (it was like being god, but like, with blowjobs). And he begrudges Ashton for being there, for being an object of distraction. He begrudges himself for being weak, so he's tempted to blame Ashton instead. Maybe, deep down, he knew that Ashton was not in a position to say no. There's a difference between knowing, and "knowing", especially when one enables you to have everything you want, without the guilt. He knew that Ashton had to say 'yes' to him and yet--and yet, he didn't know that Ashton couldn't say 'no' to him.

[Harry has this amazing power where he can know--and not know--something at the same time. He calls it self-denial.]

Non-consensual. Harry knows what that means. He might not have finished school, but he’s not an idiot. Well, he might be an idiot—sometimes—but it’s not because he never finished school. Mutual exclusivity. He's an idiot because he took not getting punched in the face to mean "kiss me please". He's an idiot because he mistook avoidance for playing "hard to get" and fear for arousal and...He's an idiot for deliberately interpreting every ambivalence and hesitation in his own favor. He's an idiot because Louis said so.

_Oh Harry, don’t you know?_ echoes in his head and he thinks he’s going to be sick. Suddenly he’s no longer on the bed, Louis' hand soothing over the back of his. He’s on his knees in Louis’ hotel bathroom, hair falling in his face and throat burning. He thinks of Ashton in this very position, and tells himself not to think about it. Don't think about the tremors in his hands, don't think about the fact that he was black-out drunk. Harry's throat spasms, as if his own stomach bile can't wait to get away from him.

He thinks of the last time he touched Ashton, under harsh florescent lights like this. In Texas, backstage. He remembers the look Ashton gave him when he finally gave in. So resigned. "Always such a slut for me," he'd whispered into Ashton's neck, and he'd thought the tears were just a trick of the light. What once played out like a porno in his head now plays out like a horror show.

In Harry's personal experience, he can justify a lot to himself. Cheating, lying, colluding. He presses his fingers against the smooth porcelain to stop their shaking. He'll have to see if he can do it this time (if his conscience can surmount rape). His mind flits over the word like it can move past it without touching it, without claiming it. Even thinking it makes his throat start to burn again. Harry stares at a spot on the bathroom floor and tries to will himself to calm down, to keep breathing, to stay present.

"Why did you--" Harry says, a gag in the back of his throat stealing his words, "Why did you tell me this?" he says, meeting Louis' eyes in the bathroom mirror. Louis' face is thinner than Harry remembers it, and his eyes look hollow, and Harry has the sudden thought that he's disappearing. From his life, from his own. It all feels like static to Harry sometimes. Louis slipping away, their relationship falling apart, the last six months, the last two years. He’s falling apart, he's beenfalling apart (he tore Ashton apart, in a bid to fix himself). In some ways Harry feels like he hasn't been himself in a very long time.

 

"Because you deserve to live in reality," Louis says, and his words are waves of salt on Harry's opened wounds. Wounds he inflicted on himself; ones he really needs to stop blaming other people for.

"Because Ashton doesn't deserve to be treated like he's the one who did something wrong," Louis says incredulously. For the first time in a long while Louis is so so grateful that he's himself and not someone else. He can't imagine caring that much about money. He can't imagine being that scared. He also can't imagine being in Harry's position, and for that he is glad. Louis has had to cauterize the threads that tied his heart to Harry's, and every one less makes his life a little easier.

"Does Ashton hate me?" Harry asks, and it's selfishness disguised as concern. Like the weight of his transgressions can be lightened by forgiveness. Like the feather of truth can be swayed by perspective; morality made relative on hypothetical scales. It's not Louis judgement to make. It's not Harry's right to know. Could Ashton even consider Harry _worthy_ of hate? After his father, after his step-father...hate is an honor Harry feels he doesn't deserve.

"I don't know, Harry," Louis says, and it's kindness hidden in one last lie. He looks like he's tired--worn out--less from lack of sleep and more from Harry. Harry doesn't know why Louis would lie to him--lie _for_ him--at this point, but then again, Harry doesn't understand most things Louis chooses to do these days. Like Zayn. Harry's pretty sure Louis' doing Zayn (and he's salty about it whenever he remembers that Louis'...moved on). 

"Please," Harry says. He doesn't say, _please stay_ , not because he's not that desperate (he is. he is very much) but because his throat is dry and he thinks he might choke on his words if he attempts any more. Harry presses his clammy hands over his face and wonders whether it’s possible to gouge one's own eyes out.  

 

"I am not responsible for what you do, any longer," Louis says, and leaves. Leaves him there, on the floor of his hotel bathroom. Or at least Harry thinks he does. He doesn't actually hear what Louis says before he leaves, over the rushing of blood in his ears. All he can hear is static. It's the last night on tour, and Harry's having a nervous breakdown.

Some time later Harry thinks he hears the hotel door shut behind Louis. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't sleep for a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3 Please leave a comment and kudos if you liked it <3


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